Chapter 2030 - 840: Everything Is in Chaos! (Part 4)

Casare paused for a moment.

"Why show him the refugees?"

Victor looked at him.

"Let him see clearly what his Boss 'Black Mamba' and those Eastern Europeans have been up to in Central America. Then let him decide whether he wants to die or live."

...

Negotiations between the Government Forces and guerrillas were conducted under the auspices of the United Nations.

Three days of talks resulted in no agreements.

The guerrillas demanded the Guatemala Government recognize their control over the border areas, which the government refused. The government demanded the guerrillas lay down their arms, which the guerrillas refused. The United Nations representatives sat in the middle, repeatedly persuading, repeatedly mediating, and repeatedly failing.

On the morning of the fourth day, just as the negotiators sat down, explosions were heard outside.

It was mortars.

Someone fired a few shells near the United Nations building, killing three civilians and injuring over a dozen others.

Who did it? No one knew.

The government claimed it was the guerrillas, the guerrillas claimed it was the government, and the United Nations called it "armed militants of unknown identity."

Negotiations were paused.

Those still in the conference room looked at each other, unsure of what to say.

Victor looked at the latest report from Guatemala.

He put down the report.

"Inform the Department of Defense," he said, "to prepare to activate the 'Southern Border Operation Plan.'"

Bramo paused for a moment.

"That is..."

Victor said, "If the refugee crisis surpasses fifty thousand, if the border situation spirals out of control, if the Guatemala Government falls—we deploy troops."

The room remained silent for a few seconds.

Casare spoke first: "Boss, send troops to Guatemala? That would be interfering in domestic affairs."

Victor looked at him.

"The Guatemala Government can no longer handle things. The guerrillas can't either. If we wait at the border, those refugees will die at the border. If we go in, at least we can keep the war outside our country's door."

He paused.

"What do you call this? It should have belonged to us in the first place."

Guatemala border.

Those twenty thousand people had already stayed in the makeshift refugee camp for three days.

There weren't enough tents, not enough food, not enough medicine; there was nothing. The International Red Cross aircraft hadn't arrived, United Nations aid was still on the way, and the Mexican Government was trying to help, but not fast enough.

A young woman sat at the tent's entrance, holding her child.

The child had been feverish for two days, face flushed, lips cracked, eyes half-open, occasionally whimpering, the sound thin like a kitten.

The woman had no milk, no medicine, nothing.

An old man came by and handed her half a bottle of water.

"Give the child a drink."

The woman took it and fed the child a few sips.

The child stopped crying but still had a fever.

The old man squatted beside her, looking into the distance.

In the distance, on the other side of the border, mountains rose and fell, shrouded in mist. Inside those mountains, people were fighting, dying, escaping.

"My home is in Huixtla," the old man said, "ran for three days. My wife didn't make it."

The woman said nothing.

"Her leg was bad. Couldn't walk. I carried her for a while, later couldn't carry anymore."

The old man lowered his head.

"I told her to wait there, said I'd find someone to help. By the time I found someone and went back, she was gone."

The woman looked at him.

"Was she taken by the guerrillas?"

The old man shook his head.

"Don't know."

Silence.

The wind blew from the north, a bit chilly.

The woman held the child a little tighter.

"My mom didn't make it out either," she said, "nor did my dad. Only I and the child got out."

The old man looked at her.

"What about your husband?"

The woman lowered her head.

"Killed. Last month."

The old man asked no more.

In the distance, along the border, the spotlights of the Mexican troops lit up, casting a glaring white light. Within the light, the barbed wire, posts, and soldiers standing guard could be seen.

"It's safe over there," the old man said.

The woman nodded.

"We've arrived."

"I hope in Mexico, I can survive..."

"I hate war!"

"I... just want to live."

...